


Scribbles of feelings

by yuraxchan



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mental Disorder, Panic Attack, Unbeta-ed, anxiety attack, blurred past, lots of feeling talks, mentions of traumas, mutism as coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5745484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuraxchan/pseuds/yuraxchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin wanted to be someone, not an empty shell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scribbles of feelings

 

Jongin was currently sitting in the far corner of the coffee shop, his hands wrapped tightly around his cup of hot chocolate as he looked through the window. Gazing at the street, he could see people coming and going as he sat there, lost in thoughts. He didn’t know how long he stayed motionless, staring into space, barely noticing customers talking animatedly in the coffee shop. He was too lost in his bubble to care. It had been the case for a while now.

Jongin didn’t know when it happened. It didn’t come one morning, suddenly and without him noticing. No, it was the result of a long process, small things accumulating, a buildup of pent-up emotions that he couldn’t control anymore. He didn’t know what triggered it, he didn’t even remember—there were so many heartbreaking moments in his life that he could choose from. No, he couldn’t choose _one_. Something irrelevant must have been the turning point anyway.

However, as insignificant as the cause was, the state he was in and its consequences were still problematic. Something had snapped in him. His brain had shut down. He just _couldn’t_ feel anything anymore. It was scary. Little by little, Jongin didn’t care as much as he did about the people surrounding him,  their feelings, their tears or their smiles, the caring attentions he received, shitty things happening to him, sadness, anger, joy…He couldn’t feel them as deeply as before. Well, it was still there somewhere—his _feelings_ —his heart was still beating and his brain functioning after all. But overall he felt mostly _empty_ and numb, his feelings concealed by a veil.

At first, no one noticed. Thankfully, Jongin could hide it for as long as he could. He hid in his flat, went out less and less, he didn’t meet his family or friends as often as before and forced a smile on his face, or a grimace depending on the situation and what expression he _should be_ showing.

It was tiring though. And Jongin stopped trying so hard to act like nothing changed, to smile, to cry, to feel. He couldn’t do it anymore. People started noticing the blank face, the monotonous and dull tone he would use to talk, the absence of his smiles and laughs. They started noticing the change, the missing pieces, the lack of feelings and life. His flaws became apparent. His secret was out in the open.

Jongin didn’t want to be around people anymore, but they distanced themselves from him at some point so he didn’t have to try to push them away—and it helped. Even his best friend, Moonkyu, stopped trying to bring him out of his shell. It should have made Jongin sad, it should have broken his heart, but it didn’t. On the contrary, he was relieved to be left alone. He felt safer—alone.

His sisters tried to coax the truth out of him too (“ _what on earth happened to you, Jongin_ ”), both worried about him, but it didn’t work. In the end, they kept sending him texts and leaving him voicemails to beg him to seek help, to _please see a therapist_. With a small pang in his heart, Jongin stopped replying and listening to them. It lasted three, four, five months. Jongin went to work in the morning, went back home in the evening and hid in his flat on the weekend. He only stopped to shop on his way home once per week, and bought as much things as possible online. Jongin became a hermit of some sort.

The thing was: Jongin was _—felt—_ fine. In his opinion, it was normal; the state he was in, the lack of feelings. He didn’t remember the time he _felt_ something. Jongin didn’t understand why his loved ones made a big deal out of it. He was still living and breathing; he was fine.

At work, it was easy. Since he was a designer, no one bothered him. They didn’t want his inspiration to go to waste. Jongin then started expressing himself through his drawings instead of words. He used his drawings to ask his assistant for coffee, or lunch, or anything he might need. Jongin preferred to send emails to his coworkers too. He was also lucky customers liked his work. He didn’t have to _talk_ to anyone, or _explain_ his artworks all the time, although his assistant was in charge of being his spokesman when it was necessary.

It went on for months and months, until Jongin became _lonely_. He was used to be alone in his line of work, and because of his _mental break down_ as his family liked to call it. (His mental was _fine thank you very much_ , he wanted to answer, but he didn’t. What was the point? His family thought it was a valid explanation and Jongin didn’t want to explain himself so it was a win-win situation for everyone.) But finally, after so long, Jongin woke up one day, stared at the ceiling and felt something different than numbness for once. He felt _lonely_. It never happened before—or he didn’t remember it—so he was quite surprised to say the least.

Jongin didn’t call his family or friends though, he didn’t want anyone to butt in his life. Also, there might be a possibility that the feeling wouldn’t last and he didn’t want to crush anyone’s hope. If Jongin didn’t hurt, he knew he was unintentionally hurting his relatives with his _condition_ and he hated it. Pushing them away and severing ties sounded like the best option at the time. Out of sight, out of mind. He’d rather not see anyone than act like a heartless asshole when he wasn’t being one on purpose. He couldn’t control it. He just couldn’t be affected by anything or experience any emotion or sensation.

It was this sudden spark of unexpected feeling, the _loneliness_ , the reason that pushed him to exit his home, with some difficulties of course, and to stop at the coffee shop.

Going out was easy, he did it every day to go to work, but at 7AM usually, when few people were in the streets. At 4PM on a Saturday, it was a very different story altogether. Being around people, _strangers_ , was an insurmountable task for Jongin now. Since he wasn’t used to the crowd, he found himself panicking when people surrounded him and pushed him from every sides. His heart started beating crazily in his chest and he began sweating profusely. He couldn’t hear anything and his vision became hazy. Jongin was totally freaking out.

Snapping out of it, and while knowing no one could help him, he ducked his head, quickly making his way to the edge of the sidewalk, and breathed. “ _Breath in, breath out,”_ he repeated in his head to calm himself down. “ _Come on, Jongin, you can’t do that here in front of everyone_.” After a few minutes of staying motionless and listening to his own pep talk, he finally looked up. His head hanging low, cold sweat making his clothes stick to his body, he self-consciously inspected his appearance in a display window to examine the damages.

His eyes were a little red, his forehead sweaty, and he shivered, feeling uncomfortable. “ _You’re okay_ ,” he whispered, knowing the worst had passed. Now more at ease, he discreetly wiped his face with his wrist, relieved that no one noticed him. His eyes caught sight of a coffee shop and he hesitantly walked towards it. He needed to find a bathroom to freshen up.

Talking to the waiter was easier than he thought, even if Jongin did stutter and talk way too softly for the poor boy to understand him properly. Dejected, Jongin took the menu and pointed the drawing of the hot chocolate. The waiter nodded and smiled politely. Jongin wondered if the waiter thought he was a weirdo. Maybe. Probably. But he didn’t care. He quickly escaped to the bathroom to spray water to his face and nape, the sweat gathering on his skin feeling disgusting. He hoped he didn’t smell too badly. He sniffed his armpits and shrugged, it was okay. It would have to do anyway, he had nothing to change into.

The hot chocolate was on the table when he came back. Jongin relaxed and put money on the table, hoping the waiter would just grab the coins and leave him alone. He had enough interactions to last him the year. His little adventure out of his comfort zone had the merit to make him realize something: his situation was worse than he had first thought. He hated to admit it but his family was obviously right, he needed _help_. He couldn’t go on like this, closing himself off for months, be unable to go outside in the open, or talk to people. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t life.

His outing acted as a wake-up call, an electroshock. The decision was hard to take, but Jongin managed to find a therapist not too far from his home. He had to walk for about eight minutes—he had counted—in relatively uncrowned streets so he felt safe. It took him six days to actually go there. Forty minutes before entering the building. Less than ten minutes to ring the bell. Jongin didn’t freak out that much though, so it was progress.

When the door opened, he hesitated, looking around the room before slowly making his way towards the reception desk. A few seats were lined up in the corner but they were all empty. Jongin was glad. No one was behind the desk so he waited, biting his nails anxiously, with his eyes continually shifting from the door to the desk. When he finally heard footsteps coming towards him, he tensed up, clenching his fists and lowering his head.

“Welcome,” someone said—a male voice. “Sorry for making you wait.”

Jongin blinked a few times. “ _He has a nice voice_ ,” was his first thought. Looking up, Jongin found himself gawping unattractively at the young man walking towards him. _“Nice face, nice smile.”_ A white shirt enhancing his large shoulders but a thin waist, and black tight formal pants that hugged his long legs that went on for miles. “ _He’s hot_.”

“Did you take an appointment with Dr Kim?” the receptionist asked politely, sitting back on his desk chair. He was smiling pleasantly at Jongin, his eyes crinkling.

Jongin opened his mouth to reply but no words came out. He frowned, trying again, and bit his lips when nothing happened. His eyes widened. He was going to panic _again_. The receptionist’s smile fell and he appeared concerned, standing up slowly. “Are you feeling unwell?” he nearly whispered.

Inhaling sharply, Jongin shook his head and focused on breathing slowly. He kept his eyes on the receptionist’s chest, reading his nametag again and again. Sehun. It was a nice name too. Sehun offered him a small smile when Jongin snapped back to reality, finally meeting his eyes. Shaking slightly, he quickly searched in his pocket for his drawings. He had meticulously prepared a few drawings to explain himself to the therapist. He also took a notebook and a pen to write down his thoughts. Jongin was a bit disappointed he had to use them with the receptionist too, it was embarrassing.

Sehun looked curious when Jongin held his first drawing. He opened the receptionist understood what Jongin meant. It was a black and white scribble that he called “I am a mess, please help”.

“You can’t talk?” Sehun asked gently, taking the drawing from Jongin’s hands. He looked sad. Jongin didn’t want him to be sad. He took his notebook and pen and wrote down something. _I can, but I haven’t used my voice in a long time._

Looking deep in thoughts, Sehun pursed his lips. “Do you need to see Dr Kim right now?” he said, looking down at his agenda.

“His next appointment is in one hour so he’s free.”

Jongin worried on his lip, swaying his body from one foot to another, before nodding his consent. Putting his drawings, notebook and pen back in his pocket, he linked his hands in front of him and played with his fingers.

“Wait for me right here,” Sehun smiled, turning back and leaving.

Jongin was nervous but his eyes still took notice of Sehun’s swaying hips which made him blush slightly. Clearing his throat, he tapped his foot on the floor as he waited. Voices echoed in the corridor and Sehun came back with another man, way smaller than him, but equally handsome and charming. Jongin supposed he was Dr Kim.

“Hi,” he said, getting around the desk to stand next to Jongin. “I’m Dr Kim Junmyeon, it’s nice to meet you.”

Jongin smiled and nodded in response.

“Sehun said you were unable to talk right now, but it looks like you came prepared!” he motioned for Jongin’s notebook and pen peeking out from his pocket. “It’s a good start if you found ways to express yourself.”

Sehun stayed silent as he observed the exchange, still standing. Dr Kim threw him a glance and smiled at him fondly.

“We should go to my office to talk more privately,” he added, extending his arm to show Jongin the way. “If you will.”

Throwing a last look in Sehun’s direction, Jongin followed Dr Kim. The therapist closed the door slowly and offered him to sit on a comfy seat while he sat opposite of him, about one foot away. “Make yourself comfortable, please.”

Jongin discarded his coat, keeping his drawings, notebook and pen on his lap and stared nervously at Dr Kim.

“First of all, you need to know that everything you’re going to say in this office will stay confidential. Feel free to share your thoughts without fear, my job isn’t to judge you but to help you.” Dr Kim explained kindly. “We shall begin by the basics, can you tell me your name?”

Quickly opening his notebook, Jongin wrote down messy lines and held them up for the therapist to see. _My name is Jongin, I’m 24 and I’m a designer._

“Okay, Jongin. It explains why you used a drawing to explain your situation to Sehun earlier.” he noted. “It makes sense. Are you used to express yourself through your drawings now?”

Jongin nodded.

“It means you’re not totally cut out from reality and communication. Good news.” Dr Kim beamed. “The problem isn’t communication then, it’s only a consequence, am I right?”

Mouthing a yes, Jongin relaxed in his seat. Dr Kim seemed to know his job well. Jongin felt relieved not to be treated like a weirdo. Maybe the man could really help him.

“I need to know why you stopped talking, do you know the reason?” he inquired.

_I didn’t have anything interesting to say anymore, or anyone to talk to._

Dr Kim looked confused. “What made you think so? Did anyone say that to you? That you weren’t interesting?”

_No, it’s just what I think. I don’t really know what people think and I don’t care._

“You don’t care? Really?” the therapist continued, crossing his legs.

_It’s not that I don’t want to care, I just don’t care. I don’t feel things anymore._

Dr Kim seemed thoughtful as he read the sentences again and again. “You can’t feel emotions anymore? Since when?”

_Yes. About nine months. I’m not affected by things happening around me._

“That’s why you stopped talking? Because you can’t experience emotions?” he questioned.

_Yes. I “feel” numb. Things don’t affect me and I don’t know why._

Humming, Dr Kim rubbed his jaw. “Any traumatic experience? An accident? A heartbreak? Can’t you think of anything that could have triggered your numbness?”

_No. Nothing in particular, I mean. My past isn’t the happiest, I’ve experienced heartbreaks and loss, but like everyone else._

“Can you give me some examples?” the therapist pressed.

_I’ve lost family members in my childhood and teenage days, I’ve experienced unrequited love and heartbreaks, some bullying, identity crisis and body image problems…As have many others._

Dr Kim appeared surprised. “You think everyone experience those things? Do you think it’s the normality?” he paused. “Because it isn’t, Jongin. Have you ever talked about it to someone?”

Jongin shrugged. _My friends, sometimes. I haven’t told everything though. I wasn’t that good with words anyway._

The therapist glanced at the clock. “I think that’s enough for today, it’s a good start. Do you wish to come back?” he inquired.

Nodding, Jongin offered him a small smile. _I think I need help._

“I’ll help you,” Dr Kim promised, getting up. “You can ask for another appointment to Sehun.”

Jongin pulled on his coat and hurried to the door where Dr Kim was waiting.

“I hope to see you soon, Jongin. Sehun will give you my email address so you can contact me if it’s necessary.” he said, opening the door.

Jongin bowed and exited his office, slowly padding to the reception’s desk. Sehun turned his head when he heard his footstep, offering him a smile.

“Do you want to take an appointment?” he inquired, opening a black agenda without breaking their eyes contact.

Nervous, Jongin paused before writing something as neatly as he could—the result was a stark contrast to his usual writing. _Next Friday afternoon?_

Sehun hummed. “I have 4:30PM, or 6PM?”

Jongin pursed his lips. _6PM is better, I work until 5PM._ He waited anxiously for Sehun’s answer.

“6Pm it is then!” he decided. “I’ll write down Dr Kim’s email address for you and your next appointment. As for payment, we can discuss it next time.”

Jongin prepared a _thank you_ and held it up for Sehun to see when the latter give him the piece of paper.

He smiled. “You’re welcome!”

Clumsily pocketing his things, Jongin waved at Sehun who waved back. “Goodbye, have a nice weekend.”

Feeling better about himself, Jongin went back home at an unhurried pace. He has talked to strangers today. They haven’t judged him or found him weird and Jongin was glad.

 

 

 

 

Jongin started going to see Dr Kim every week after that first appointment. Week after week, he could feel a change operating. Three months in and he could whisper. He still didn’t talk to people in general, at his work or to his family and friends, but he tried to exchange a few words with Sehun and Dr Kim. It was a huge progress.

Dr Kim helped him a lot. He seemed to understand Jongin better than anyone. Sometimes he expressed Jongin’s thoughts and fears better than Jongin himself would. Dr Kim has explained to him that he needed to go out more, to surround himself with people to get used to the feeling of not being alone anymore. Jongin started staying outside more before and after work, to get used to the crowd. At first, he kept panicking but it got better as time passed. Some days he would still feel inadequate but it didn’t happen every time he was out.

He read stuff online too; about meditation, tips to stop freaking out or to control his breathing and to relax. Dr Kim gave him advices too, of course. He tried to question Jongin about his past, his heartbreaks, the bullying, the loss, or the emotions he _felt_ before shutting down. He was gentle about it. He never asked too many questions in one session. If Jongin appeared too shaken, he stopped the session and waited for him to calm down. Usually, he would offer him to stay at the reception with Sehun, the latter giving a glass of water and talking to him about everything and nothing until Jongin was ready to go home safely.

Jongin liked Sehun a lot. He was kind and gentle, always welcoming Jongin with a smile. His smile was nice, soothing. And he smelt really good too. He would talk to him every time, not minding Jongin’s lack of response or weird drawings and awful writing—Jongin stopped writing neatly, it took too much time. Sehun was comfortable. If Jongin has been nervous with him at the beginning, fearing the man would find him annoying or weird, he felt totally at ease now.

Sometimes, Sehun’s eyes would shine at the sight of his drawings—some for work, some personal. Jongin took a habit to show him his drawings as he waited for his appointment. Sehun seemed to like them. Jongin thought he was being polite, trying to appear concerned by Jongin’s life because it might help his situation, but Dr Kim has assured him that it wasn’t the case when he asked. Sehun wasn’t a therapist, he had said, he was just his secretary. Jongin felt lighter after that, less pressured to talk to Sehun since the secretary appeared to genuinely want to talk to him.

Jongin didn’t know how it happened, but he started talking about Sehun in his sessions. Dr Kim had some difficulties not to smile, and he listened to him rant about which drawing he showed to Sehun and what it had inspired him to draw after the secretary had voiced out his thoughts. When he realized what he had said, Jongin blushed and stuttered, clamping his mouth shut.

“You’re free to say whatever you want here,” Dr Kim appeased him. “Even if it’s about my secretary.”

“Isn’t it weird?” he whispered.

“Why would it be? You befriended Sehun on your own, I think it’s a good thing.” the therapist smiled, crossing and uncrossing his legs. Jongin noticed he did that a lot when he found Jongin’s words amusing.

He pouted. “He’s the only one I talk to, excluding you. He doesn’t find me weird, I think.”

Dr Kim nodded. “Sehun likes you.”

Pleased, a smile tugged at Jongin’s lip. “Is it really okay if we talk, you know, since you’re my therapist and all?”

“You’re making progress thanks to Sehun, and his personal life has nothing to do with his job. If he wants to be friends with you, he has every right to do so. As long as it doesn’t impair his job, of course.” the therapist commented kindly.

Relieved, Jongin smiled—a real smile this time. He smiled more these days, his lips lifting up on their own accord every now and then. If Dr Kim noticed, he didn’t comment on it. But Jongin saw how Sehun’s smile would widen when he smiled, his eyes crinkling in joy, so it must be a good sign. Jongin tried to smile more in Sehun’s presence, just to see the joy on his face. It was a good look on him.

“Did you tell your family that you can talk a little now?” Dr Kim changed the subject.

“No, I’m not ready to face them.” Jongin sighed. “I’m scared.”

Dr Kim hummed. “What about your feelings? In our last session you told me you didn’t feel as lonely as before, any more change?”

“I think I feel content sometimes. It’s hard to tell, I feel nothing but it’s not the same as before, it’s not dull or empty. It’s just nice. I feel good.” he replied, playing with his sleeves.

“Any particular reason? When it happens?” he continued, smiling.

“Usually when I’m here, at your office. Or with Sehun.” Jongin paused. “It happens at home too.”

The therapist’s smile widened. “Tell me more. What are you thinking about?”

Embarrassed, Jongin’s cheeks reddened. He knew what Dr Kim wanted him to say. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

“You’re embarrassed right now.” Dr Kim said, pleased. “You’re experiencing more and more feelings, Jongin. I hope you noticed.”

Opening his mouth in an “o” shape, Jongin nodded. He hasn’t noticed. Dr Kim was right.

“I think you should write down the new feelings you’re experiencing, try to describe them carefully.” he advised.

Jongin nodded, pensive.

When he shared the news with Sehun, the secretary looked ecstatic, congratulating him. Jongin wanted to talk more but people were waiting at the reception. Sehun appeared apologetic and welcomed the next patient, throwing furtive glances at Jongin as he made his way to the door. Maybe next time.

When he went home, Jongin felt something akin to deception. But it quickly disappeared behind the usual numbness. Jongin didn’t sleep much that night, staring at the ceiling blankly. He still wrote down the feeling though, as Dr Kim instructed him.

The following friday, Jongin was on holidays so he had taken his appointment earlier in the afternoon. At 1PM. When he opened the door, Sehun wasn’t at the reception desk but he could hear voices coming from Dr Kim’s office. The door must have been opened because Jongin heard everything. He was going to sit down when he heard his name.

“Jongin is going to arrive,” Sehun said.

“I know,” Dr Kim replied. “By the way, are you planning to see him outside of work? You’re getting along well, right?”

Sehun let out an “Oh”, visibly caught off guard. “I’m not sure, I mean, he’s a patient.”

“Yes, but not yours. You’re friends right?” the therapist continued.

Jongin could hear the noise of papers and drawers being shut. They must have been cleaning the office, he thought. He waited patiently for Sehun’s answer, biting his lips anxiously. He could already feel dread coming—and he easily recognized the feeling of fear.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, he hasn’t fully recovered, right? He’s still unstable.” Sehun answered.

Jongin clenched his fists. “Unstable”, “recovered”, it painfully reminded him of the reason he was there in the first place. Jongin didn’t think he was sick, or that something was wrong with him. Even though he came to see Dr Kim for help, he never acknowledged the fact that there was a problem with him.  He knew not feeling anything wasn’t normal but he didn’t think of himself as someone who was mentally _ill_.

“Sehun,” Dr Kim chastised him. “He’s not unstable. Jongin’s fine, he’s just disoriented. He locked a part of himself, that’s all. It’s a coping mechanism.”

Jongin could kiss his therapist for defending him right now, but he was also feeling funny. His chest hurt and even massaging it didn’t help much. Grimacing, he rubbed his chest and sat down on the nearest seat when his legs wobbled. It suddenly became difficult to breath and it drawn on him that he was panicking. It was different from the other times but the telltale signs of anxiety getting possession of his whole body were there.

He vaguely heard someone calling him, telling him to calm down, to breathe slowly and to squeeze his hand. Jongin recognized Dr Kim’s gentle tone and concentrated on his voice, closing his eyes.

“Good, you’re doing good Jongin.” he heard his therapist said. “Can you open your eyes for me, please?”

Jongin frowned but eventually did, his gaze meeting Dr Kim’s worried eyes. His therapist smiled, visibly deflating. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, releasing Dr Kim’s hand. His own hand was clammy and he felt sweaty all over.

Jongin knew Sehun was there, behind Dr Kim but he chose to avoid looking at him. He wasn’t ready to face him after what he heard.

“Do you want to lie down in my office?” he offered. “Sehun, bring me a glass of water, please.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jongin croaked out, licking his lips. “I should go home.”

Dr Kim looked upset. “Did you hear our conversation?” he inquired.

Lowering his head, Jongin nodded.

“I’m sorry,” his therapist sighed. “Sehun was clumsy with his words.”

Jongin didn’t reply, and accepted the glass of water Sehun held for him when he came back. Without looking at him, he nodded his thanks and gulped down its content.  “Can I use your bathroom?” he asked timidly.

“Sure, you know where it is.” Dr Kim replied, getting up to let Jongin pass.

Jongin padded towards the bathroom and exhaled loudly once he was alone. Opening the tap, he splashed his face with cold water. He still felt a little weird but overall he was feeling better. The door opened behind him but he didn’t turn around, seeing Sehun’s reflection in the mirror.

“I’m so so so sorry, Jongin.” he apologized, a frown marrying his usual smiling face.

Looking down, Jongin nodded. He could feel the numbness slipping back into his body and welcomed it for once. Sehun must have seen the change because he faltered before adding something else, biting his lips instead. There was an awkward silence so Jongin wiped his face and hands with tissues, crushing them and throwing them away afterwards. He paused then turned around to face Sehun, the latter still unmoving and studying him.

“I need to go,” Jongin whispered, pointing the door. He didn’t wait for a reply and tried to shove past Sehun but the secretary blocked his path.

“Wait,” he gasped, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I said stupid things earlier.” His voice wavered. “I really want us to be friends, Jongin. I swear I’m saying the truth. I just wasn’t sure it was a good idea now, since you’re doing so good and making progress. I don’t want to be the reason you shut down again.”

Blinking, Jongin’s head snapped back up at the words. Sehun looked sincere, his mouth set in a tight line.

“But it looks like I fucked up,” Sehun added sadly. “I’m sorry. I want to be your friend, Jongin. Don’t shut down. Don’t shut _me_ down.” He released Jongin’s wrist and stepped back to create some distance between them, his gaze unwavering.

It was Jongin’s choice now. He could ignore Sehun, flee, go home and forget about it, about therapy, about Dr Kim and about Sehun, or he could take a leap of faith, trust Sehun and try to be friends with him. What did he want? He mulled over the thought.

“I want to feel.” he admitted.

Sehun relaxed, relieved, and smiled softly. “Okay.”

Squeezing past Sehun, Jongin went home feeling fuzzy but strangely relaxed. He knew his panic attack had sucked the energy out of him but he knew part of his fuzziness came from Sehun’s words. They were probably friends already, having spent so many moments together at Dr Kim’s office, but still, Sehun asking Jongin to be his friends outside of his work was something else entirely. It was a huge progress. It was another step to have his life back. To feel again one day.

Jongin knew it was only the beginning, it would be hard to let Sehun in, to trust him, but he wanted to try. He knew he couldn’t be the Jongin from his past, but he still wanted to be a new Jongin, a better Jongin. Someone who was confident, who could talk to people, someone who could feel joy, anger or sadness. Jongin wanted to be _someone_ , not an empty shell. He hoped Dr Kim and Sehun would help him get there.

 

 

 

 

There was something to say about Sehun’s persistence. As soon as Jongin told him that yes, they could be friends he didn’t lose a minute to impose himself in Jongin’s life. First, he asked for his number and email and started talking with Jongin on a regular basis. He would share meaningless bits about himself such as the name of his cat or his favorite movie, and ask Jongin about his interests, his life. Then, little by little, Sehun grew more affectionate with him. He always had been, smiling kindly at Jongin, squeezing his shoulder when he was down or unwell, but it reached another level.

Sehun would hug him when there was no one in the office, he would also ruffle his hair and poke his cheeks. Jongin didn’t know how to react at first, tensing up and feeling confused about Sehun’s attitude, but he learnt to accept it as being a part of Sehun’s personality. Now Jongin wouldn’t even blink if Sehun hugged him. Dr Kim had noticed of course, and he seemed pleased. “ _Skinship means you’re ready to open up, to let people getting close to you physically but also close to your heart,”_ he had said.

Jongin could nearly feel it—his closeness with Sehun. His heart would do something funny when Sehun was beside him and his lips would lift up automatically too. He didn’t know what emotion it was, but he liked it a lot. It was comfortable, warm. Like Sehun. He remembered the feeling somehow, but it seemed very far away and very different. In a sense it was new. Everything seemed new to Jongin and it probably was.

Since Jongin felt better, Sehun and he would meet in public. They would go to the cinema, or talk in a coffee shop. When Jongin hesitated though, Sehun was quick to cancel their plans. Jongin knew he should feel bad about it but he didn’t. Sehun said he didn’t mind and Jongin believed him. He didn’t know if it was because Sehun worked with a therapist or because he knew of Jongin’s condition but he was very understanding and accommodating. He never got mad, never appeared frustrated or upset with Jongin. If Jongin didn’t want to talk or didn’t want to go out, he would simply answer with an “okay, take care” and that was it. Sehun wouldn’t bother him afterwards, be it by phone or email, and he would wait for Jongin to contact him first. Only if Jongin didn’t get back to him in the following days would he message him first.

Sehun was nice friend. Probably the best friend Jongin ever had, but he couldn’t compare since the Jongin of the past and the Jongin of the present were two different people. Jongin wondered if his past self would have been friends with Sehun. Probably not, because they would have never met if Jongin was still the Jongin of the past.

 

 

 

 

Four months into therapy, Jongin finally started talking again. He would whisper sometimes when he felt anxious, but it was becoming rare. He would stop talking if someone raised their voice though. He would totally shut down if it happened. It happened once when someone yelled in the coffee shop Sehun and he were sitting in. His friend looked upset at the people who created the commotion and pushed Jongin towards the exit. Jongin didn’t say another word for the whole day so Sehun did the talking. Jongin didn’t know why, but he would have to talk to Dr Kim about it. There were lots of things he didn’t know about himself yet, things that were hidden deep inside his heart and in the far and dark corner of his psyche.

Dr Kim had said Jongin could feel now. Jongin had written all his “feelings” on his notebook and his therapist seemed confident in his ability to experience emotions. _“You can’t put a name on them, but you feel them. They’re here, in your heart now. They’ve come home.”_

Jongin knew. He could _perceive_ it. He couldn’t explain it but it was there, tangible. Now when he was with Sehun and at his friend’s request, he could describe him what emotions he could discern in his presence. “When I’m with you, I don’t think at all. I’m just here, with you. It’s warm and comfortable. There’s no emptiness or dullness, just…nothing. But a good kind of nothing.” he explained softly, playing with his sleeves. “It’s nice.”

Humming, Sehun was staring at him with fondness. “I feel nice too, with you.”

“Yeah? How it’s like for you?” Jongin inquired curiously.

Sehun hesitated a moment and sat straighter. “Same as you, it’s comfortable and easy.” He paused, looking around to make sure the door of Dr Kim’s office was still close. “Only, I know exactly what I’m feeling because of you, or should I say for you?”

“What is it?” Jongin asked.

Sehun took a sharp intake of breath. “I like you.” he confessed softly. “It’s been a while actually.”

“I like you too?” Jongin tried, confused. “I guess that’s what I tried to describe.”

Chuckling nervously, Sehun blushed. “I like you in the sense I want to kiss you, Jongin. Not just spend time with you as a friend and see you from time to time outside of the office.”

“Oh,” Jongin said dumbly. “How do I know if it’s what I feel too? How can I tell you I feel the same or not?” His eyes were widening as he talked, panicking. Sehun’s words scared him because he still couldn’t discern all of his feelings that well yet. What if he felt the same but didn’t know? How could Sehun trust his words if he was unable to feel everything? What if he didn’t felt the same and couldn’t tell Sehun? How his friend could accept it and eventually move on with his life?

Sehun took his hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly. “Jongin. Breathe.” he offered softly. “You’re fine, we’re fine. Calm down.”

“But-” Jongin stuttered.

“No.” his friend cut him off, looking apologetic. “I didn’t tell you so you could freak out. I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m sorry, it’s a bit selfish.”

Jongin relaxed and nodded.

“I can’t tell you how you feel, but maybe you should listen to your heart. Not in the way we usually mean, you know about feelings, but really listen to your heartbeat. How is the rhythm of your heart when we’re together? When I’m close? When I hug you? Those kinds of things.” Sehun explained.

“Do you want to kiss me, right now?” Jongin asked. “Because maybe you should.”

“Are you sure?” Sehun mumbled, frowning. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What is the worst that can happen? Me not feeling anything?” he joked in a self-deprecating way.

Sehun shook his head. “Jongin…”

“Sorry,” he sighed. “You’re probably right.”

Sehun smiled and changed the subject.

 

 

 

 

Sehun showed up on Jongin’s doorstep for the first time two weeks later. His hands shoved in his pockets, he looked nervous when Jongin opened the door.

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked, biting his lip.

Frowning, Jongin shook his head. Sehun had taken him by surprise and now he felt a bit uncomfortable to have him here. “Come in,” he offered.

Sehun looked around quickly before facing his friend. “I looked up into the internet and I think maybe you were right. Maybe we should test the theory. You know, about the kiss.”

Confused, Jongin sat on his couch. “The kiss.” he repeated, motioning for Sehun to sit. “You want to kiss me now?” he spluttered.  
Sehun nodded, plopping himself on the couch. “Yes.”

Curling up, Jongin bit his lips. It was the first time someone came into his flat since the _break down_ and he didn’t know what to feel. Also, Sehun showing up unannounced to kiss him was quite a shock.

“Let me kiss you, and concentrate on what you physically feel.” Sehun nearly begged. “Please?”

Jongin sighed and slid closer to Sehun, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “Okay.”

Sighing in relief, Sehun turned towards him and cupped his face, his thumbs caressing the apple of Jongin’s cheeks. He hesitated shortly before bringing their lips together, still holding Jongin close. As he was instructed, Jongin concentrated on the sensation his body felt; the quickening pace of his heartbeat at the gentle press of lips, the warmth invading his chest as Sehun pressed their bodies flush together, the tingling feeling on his lips, the flutter of his eyelashes, the slight shiver cursing through his veins as Sehun parted his lips to gain access to his mouth, the spark when their tongue met, the way his breath stopped as Sehun moaned in his mouth, the funny feeling he felt in his stomach or the way his blood rushed south, making his cock twitch in interest at the proximity of their bodies and the warmth of Sehun’s embrace. He felt it all.

Jongin could feel himself tearing up as his body felt too much at the same time, and he violently pushed Sehun away. Breathing harshly, he pressed his palm to his lips and let the tears fall. Sehun looked equally shocked, unmoving as he stared at a crying Jongin.

“Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly, lifting his hand to touch him before faltering and letting it fall on his lap.

“Yeah, sorry, it was too much.” Jongin whispered, still hiding behind his hand.

Sehun gulped nervously. “Did you feel something?”

Wiping his cheeks, Jongin sniffled. “My body did.”

“Was it bad?” Sehun inquired, grimacing.

“It wasn’t bad, it was good. A little too good.” he frowned, letting his hand fall on his lap as well. “I’m sorry, I got scared.” Jongin looked down. He felt exhausted. In a few seconds he felt too much and it was way more than he could take. “But Sehun, I think I felt it. What you call “like”. I felt it.” he admitted, nodding eagerly. “I definitely felt it.”

Sehun offered him a beautiful smile. “I’m glad.” he whispered, covering Jongin’s hand with his. “I’m really glad.”

“Please don’t kiss me anytime soon though,” Jongin mumbled, frowning as he rubbed his chest. “I felt like my heart was exploding. Physically exploding I mean.”

Biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile, Sehun nodded. “Okay.”

 

 

 

 

That night, Jongin didn’t write in his notebook, but he drew a colorful scribble that he called “What I feel” instead. He would show it to Dr Kim next time. Maybe his therapist would help him put a word on what he felt for Sehun.

 


End file.
